


Bewitched

by vix_spes



Category: Emma - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Introspection, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Knightley finally accepts that he has been utterly bewitched by one Miss Emma Woodhouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bewitched

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. They were instantly drawn to her wherever she was in the room. That in itself was nothing new, for Miss Emma Woodhouse drew attention wherever she went, but this evening he felt as though his inability to look away was obvious to every person in attendance at The Crown. His gaze certainly hadn’t escaped Emma’s notice and, though she didn’t neglect her dance partner, she kept catching his eye and making him smile.

He knew that she undoubtedly disapproved of where he had chosen to place himself – amongst the fathers, husbands and whist players – but he had never been a fan of the ballroom and, knowing him as well as she did, Emma knew that. He was here because it was expected of him, no other reason. At least that was what he told himself. He sometimes did regret his disinclination to dance though, particularly when he was forced to watch her dance with flirtatious little popinjays like this evening.

Strange though, how none of them had worried him quite like Frank Churchill when they had that radiant Emma Woodhouse smile bestowed upon them.

George Knightley was well aware of the loveliness that one Miss Emma Woodhouse possessed and had been for some years now, perhaps even all the way back to the wedding of his brother and her sister. How had he once put it to Mrs Weston? ‘I confess that I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers’. There was nothing but the truth in his words yet it was not simply Emma’s beauty – or indeed her money – that made her quite the catch to young gentlemen from all over Surrey. It was also her wit, her intelligence and her warmth. Oh, he would be the first to admit that she had her faults – and openly acknowledge thus – but he was slowly starting to admit to himself that he admired Emma Woodhouse not simply as a partial old friend but as a man in love views the object of his affections.

Perhaps that was why he had taken against Frank Churchill so; because in him, Knightley could see a very likely – and suitable – husband for Emma. Looking at the two of them now, however much he hated to do it, he had to admit that they were a well-matched pair. The Weston’s had made it very clear that they would love nothing more than to welcome Emma into their family and, indeed, half of Highbury seemed confident that an announcement was imminent. Still, there was something about Frank Churchill that Knightley didn’t trust, some feeling that he just wasn’t right – wasn’t good enough – for Emma. The only thing that kept him from worrying over much was Emma’s previously stated determination that she would never marry, never leave her father, and that she and Knightley would forever remain the bachelor uncle and spinster aunt. All he could do was hope that Emma’s resolve held up in the face of Frank Churchill’s charm.

He had the feeling that he was being far too grave for Emma’s liking, at least if the looks that she kept sending in his direction were anything to go by, but he couldn’t help it, thoughts plagued as they were by the prospect of Emma and Frank Churchill together. He did his best to appear amiable when he led Miss Smith to the set, having seen her snubbed by Mr Elton and a genuine smile made its way onto his face at the grateful and delighted look that Emma sent his way. He was bewitched indeed if even a small smile set his pulse racing and his heart pounding. Even so, his grave mien reappeared when he realised that the Elton’s were not only snubbing Miss Smith but Emma as well. When the guests returned to the ballroom, he eagerly took the opportunity to speak to Emma, leading her out onto the tiny balcony to ensure a modicum of privacy.

He fought to keep his attention on the conversation about Miss Smith and the Elton’s, receiving confirmation that – as he had suspected – Emma had been angling for Mr Elton to marry her friend but it was a hard task. Emma was always a beauty, whatever she wore but tonight, standing in the moonlight in her simple dress and jewellery, Emma was radiant. There was no other word for it. She had no need of the fripperies and ostentatious dresses that Mrs Elton favoured but then George Knightley had seen Emma in a dress with the hem fairly clarted with mud and still found her beautiful.

“Come Emma, set your companions the example. Everybody is asleep!”

Mr Weston’s intrusion was simultaneously welcome and unwanted; welcome for Emma was doing strange things to his wits this evening and Knightley didn’t entirely trust himself yet unwanted for he had been enjoying this time together, just the two of them. His thoughts were for naught though, as Emma obeyed Mr Weston’s entreaty with alacrity.

“I am ready whenever I am wanted.”

As Mr Weston hurried away to persuade more young ladies to choose their partners to take to the floor, Knightly spoke feeling as though his heart was jackrabbiting in his chest. It was the strangest sensation, one that he was not at all used to. “Whom are you going to dance with?”

“With you, if you will ask me.”

“Will you?” The raw hope in his voice was clearly audible to him and he couldn’t help but hope that Emma hadn’t noticed it.

“Indeed I will. You have shown that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper.”

“Brother and sister? No, indeed we are not.”

No, brother and sister they were definitely not. Once, he may have passed his feelings off as those of an old friend or indeed as the affection of an older brother but he could no longer do so, not now that he had admitted his true feelings to himself. For the truth of the matter was that Emma Woodhouse had bewitched him, body and soul. In all likelihood, she had done so the day that he first held her all those years ago, when she had wrapped her hand around his finger and his teenage self had, quite unwittingly, surrendered his heart into her hands.

As he took Emma’s hand in his and led her to the dance floor, Knightley couldn't help but stand a little bit straighter, feeling all of the eyes of Highbury watching them. Unable to resist, he snuck a glance towards Frank Churchill and was rather gratified to see an undecipherable expression on the younger man's face. Knightley turned his head after a few seconds though; he didn't want to waste his energy on Frank Churchill.

Instead, he focused on Emma; bright smile on her face, the feel of her hand in his, the way that her attention was solely focused upon him and Knightley knew that she was it for him. There would never be a Mrs George Knightly, never be a Mistress of Donwell Abbey, unless that place were to be taken by Emma. But, bewitched as he may be, Emma’s happiness was still paramount and if she chose Frank Churchill then he would do his best as her old friend to be happy for her, even if his own heart broke in the process.

Until then, he would take all of the moments like this that she was willing to give and cherish every single second that he was able to spend with his dearest Emma.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/238724.html)


End file.
